Fewer than sixty mechanical watches a year. Four hands. One bench. Nothing that can be hurried is hurried.
Why sixty is the maximum
A movement finished entirely by hand cannot be scheduled. Black polish on a steel bridge either arrives — a perfect, mirror-dark plane with no direction to the eye — or it does not, and the piece begins again. When we counted honestly how many watches four people can finish this way in a year without lying to themselves, the answer was fewer than sixty.
So we set sixty as the ceiling and never the floor. Some years we make fifty-one. We have never made a sixty-first. The number protects the work from us.
We do not build watches to be worn quickly. We build them to be kept — through one owner, then another, running on the same balance we cut by hand.
The collection
Each one is a decade of decisions. We would rather refine four than dilute forty.
The time-only piece. A dial with nothing to explain, so everything must be right.
Small seconds set deep and off-centre — the beat made visible, quietly.
Power reserve and moonphase, engraved by the same hand that finishes the bridges beneath.
The one-minute tourbillon. Two a year, at most. Some years, none.
The movement
Turn a Vollmer over and the finishing does not stop where the eye stops. We finish what will never be seen, because the watch will outlive our reasons.
Every edge is bevelled by hand at forty-five degrees, then polished until it reflects. No two bevels are identical, and none is machine-cut.
Steel worked against a tin plate with diamond paste until it reflects black from every angle but one. It takes a full day. It cannot be rushed or reproduced by tool.
Cut freehand with a graver. The hand that holds it has held it for thirty years. The line remembers.
The workshop
There is no sales floor. There is a bench, a lathe, and the light from a north window that does not lie about colour.
Cut his first tourbillon cage in 1989. Decides what leaves the door.
Owns the tin plate. If the black polish is wrong, she starts again.
Turns every wheel and pinion. Learned the trade here, and only here.
Engraves the balance cocks. Services every Vollmer ever made.
The waiting list
We will not tell you a date we cannot keep. Here is exactly how it works, and why it takes as long as it does.
Not a form to nowhere. A message read by Anton or Marlene, usually answered within the week. We would like to know which reference, and why.
When a slot on the bench opens, we offer it. There is no deposit to hold a place you may never reach. You pay when the work begins.
Between twenty-six and forty months, depending on the reference. We do not shorten it for anyone. The tourbillon may be longer. We will always tell you the truth of the queue.
Before, during, after. Sit at the bench. Watch your own movement being finished. Most owners come at least once.
Servicing for life
Every Vollmer we have ever finished can come home. Werner services them all — the ones sold last year and the ones sold before some of us were born. There is no expiry on this. The person who cut your balance is still at the bench, and if he is not, the person he taught will be.
A full service every five to seven years. No watch is ever too old, and no owner is ever the wrong owner. If it carries our name, it is ours to care for.
Make contact
There is no queue to speak to a person. Tell us which reference interests you, and we will tell you the truth of the list.
Vollmer Uhrenmanufaktur · Altenberger Straße, 01768 Glashütte, Sachsen
bench@vollmer.de · By appointment only